In the Wings
by Tech Duinn
Summary: It soon becomes apparent by the way he says your name, that slow, stern, slightly condescending "Rebecca," that something is wrong. Where was Rebecca during "The Critic in the Cabernet?"


In the Wings

Part I

When he calls you with the news, you're laying on the couch eating chips and enjoying a day of luxuriating in front of the TV. Because of the crunch in the economy, enrollment was dramatically low this semester, forcing the college to eliminate two lower level positions in the Admin department and hand the work over to the higher ups. You've been doing one and a half times your normal work load for the past three months, and trying to start up a new driver's ed program at the same time. The class is finally on the books for the fall semester, and your boss decided to reward you with a day off.

When you first pick up, you're anticipating a fight over Parker's schedule, and with the new bonus time you've gotten, you're not about to let Seeley sweet talk you into letting him bogart the whole weekend. You don't let him get a word in edge wise for the first couple of minutes, but it soon becomes apparent by the way he says your name, that slow, stern, slightly condescending "Rebecca," that something is wrong. You stop, and listen with growing incredulity and fear.

"A brain tumor?" Yes, he says, been showing symptoms for months, he says. Hallucinations and loss of coordination, and oh, he has to go into surgery in the next twenty minutes.

When you arrive at George Washington, a pretty Asian woman and a curly haired man about three inches shorter than her are waiting for you at the admissions desk. They introduce themselves as part of the forensics team that Seeley works with, but it's rather obvious from the drawn and lost expressions on their faces that they're more than just colleagues. You can't help but like woman especially; her voice is soothing and she has a look of genuine concern etched across her features.

Angela and Jack escort you up to the third floor where the rest of the team Seeley works with is in various stages of repose as they fight to get comfortable in the unforgiving waiting room chairs. Your eyes seek Dr. Brennan, but she is nowhere to be found. For a moment you panic, because you've been craving her cool, rational manner, the one thing that held you together the night Seeley was shot.

Instead you are greeted by the sight of two people you'd rather never have to interact with for the rest of your life: Dr. Sweets, and Camille Saroyan. Bile races up the back of your throat as you catch sight of the young psychiatrist who'd been the one to inform you Seeley was actually alive, and not rotting on a gurney somewhere because a psycho-stalker tried to kill Dr. Brennan. You'd slapped him- rather hard- at the revelation, and despite knowing he realistically couldn't have told you any earlier, the sheer hell you'd been forced to live in for almost six hours-that fact that you'd been only moments away from telling Parker- makes it impossible to forgive him.

And then there's Camille. You desperately hope you two can keep it civil for the coming days, but you like to start arguments when you're scared and vulnerable, two feelings that have always dialed up a thousand decibels when you're around Seeley's old flame. You'd always had a contentious relationship with Camille despite mutual attempts to play nice for Seeley's sake, and it doesn't help that the last time you saw her (was it really six years ago?) you two had argued heatedly about your unwillingness to marry him.

You push past it and ask what's going on, and are shocked to hear that Dr. Brennan is in surgery with Seeley. The woman may work with corpses, and may be the most coolly rational and compartmentalizing person on the face of the planet, but you can't imagine her standing by and watching as a team of doctors cut open Seeley's head. Just the thought reawakens your nausea.

You don't really hear the rest of the explanations and eventualities that Camille and Dr. Sweets present to you. What you really want is to sit down next to Dr. Brennan and worry in companionable silence as the two of you wait for news. You'd held each other's hands last time, despite his blood still being damp on her sleeve. You crave that connection now, that unspoken understanding, the feeling that you're not alone in your fear and anxiety; emotions you two couldn't-can't- openly express, because he's your ex and Dr. Brennan's partner.

The next four hours are torture. You try to restrain yourself from compulsively checking the time, but you'd deliberately chosen a seat facing the clock, and there's little else to look at but the slow ticking of the second hand. If Parker were here, you'd lecture him that watching time pass makes it go even more slowly, but you can't bring yourself to stop. You also can't stop fidgeting.

You hate your compulsive hair twirling habit, and have continually tried to break it because it makes you seem younger and more naive than you are, and in conjunction with the blonde hair, completely air-headed. You try to tap your foot, remember the fingering to "Hot Cross Buns," and pick at the threads of your seat, but your fingers keep migrating to your recently cut hair. It doesn't really help your headache to be pulling at the locks, but the pain is a distraction, and that's what you need right now.

Brent calls you sometime in the thick silence of it all, wondering where you are, and why you didn't tell him he needed to pick Parker up from soccer practice. He knows you well enough to take the spotless kitchen as a sign to not push you too hard, but you're far too jumpy to let his gentle accusations slide, and before you know it the nurses are coming over and trying to tell you to take it outside because the shouting is disrupting the rest of the wing. Instead, you hang up on Brent without really answering any of his questions, and plop back down on the couch, trying to keep the anger at the surface so you can ignore the anxiety.

Thank God Camille doesn't comment. Dr. Sweets almost does, starts getting up to head over to you, but Angela grabs his arm and forces his back into a chair. You really can't help but love this woman, even though the good doctor is probably the only one you can safely vent your frustration on, and dear Jesus do you need to vent.

She comes over some time later when you've calmed a good deal and asks you to go on a cafeteria run with her. You accept by hightailing it toward the elevators. The conversation is superficial as you wait in line, because she tries to bring up Parker, and you can't talk about him without imagining what his life is going to be like without his father, and how you'll possibly be able to deliver the news to him.

You both pick up sandwiches for everybody, settling on the turkey clubs because the egg salad doesn't look particularly safe. You also grab juice, chips, and a few chocolaty items, which Angela stashes in her purse with a wink. If it hadn't been an hour past the time the nurses had promised an update, you might have laughed.

When you get back up to the waiting room, only a few people dig into their food in earnest, and you are not among them. Instead you pass your food to Jack, who tucks in quickly enough that you peg him for a stress eater. The apple juice is refreshing though, even if it makes you think about Parker again.

An hour and forty-five minutes after they promised to speak to you, a doctor does come out into the waiting room: Dr. Brennan.

Angela is the first to spot her, and exclaims "Sweetie!" loud enough that everyone in the lounge looks up. You're at Dr. Brennan's side in an instant, impatient to be reassured by her perpetually calm demeanor. First, though, Angela needs to release her from that bone crunching hug.

"Everything is progressing nicely," she says when she's finally free. Her skin is far too pale, and she sways ever so slightly where she stands. You wonder if she was able to sit at all during the operation. "I'm sorry for the delay in the update, but there was a complication during the extraction process. I wanted to be able to give you the most complete prognosis possible."

She and Camille lapse into a technical conversation that you don't really follow. Your frustration must show on your face, because Dr. Brennan reaches out to grip your hand and smiles ever so slightly. "He's going to be fine."

Suddenly you can breathe again.

Angela forces her to eat a salad you hadn't seen her get from the mess. Dr. Brennan gulps down some water and retreats to the bathroom before returning to the operating room. She said it'll take fifty minutes to close, and another two hours before Seeley is let off anesthesia. You spend most of that time on the phone with Brent, apologizing and explaining, and then with Parker, who per your request rambles on excitedly about his day as you slump back into the couch and let the comfort of his voice wash over you.

Everything's going to be fine.

Except that it isn't, because he won't wake up.

AN: I've always thought the way the writers played Brennan and Rebecca meeting was really interesting. They seemed to genuinely connect on a personal level, most likely because neither felt threatened by the other. I wanted to explore that a little, and why we didn't see Becks or Parker in either "The Critic in the Cabernet" or "The End in the Beginning."

Many thanks to broadwanime and written in dreams for their spectacular beta-ing services.


End file.
